


Days of Future... Where?

by addyleecastles



Series: story ideas/crossovers [1]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Time Travel, X-Men: Days of Future Past References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:34:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24955399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addyleecastles/pseuds/addyleecastles
Summary: While Logan, the Professor, and Hank were trying to find Peter for their mission to break into the Pentagon, a man with a futuristic gun intercepts and shoots all four of them without warning, sending the four of them to an alternate universe of futuristic Japan, in a world where powers have existed for a few centuries and its a normal way of life. But due to the sensitive time limit of Logan's mission, The fact that Hank does not have anymore syringes to supress their powers, they are, understandably, shitting themselves. But Logan just wants to get home, to save his own world from the fucked-up fate it always seems to catch itself in. He needs to get back, even if this world is far more excepting of mutants.-- this starts rather abruptly, so sorry if it dont make much sense. Some of the details and storyline is just in my head.
Series: story ideas/crossovers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806187
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Basically i got high and wanted to see a scenario like this play out. It probably wont make much sense to everyone and theres plot holes galore, but this kind of stuff is all I really write anymore. Hey, its good practice I guess! If anybody bothers to read it and wants to add something to it or write their own based off this or somthn, be my guest 👏🙌.
> 
> Also, i didnt proof read this; if details are said twice then thats how it is. i just copy and pasted it from my quicknotes lmao.

When Logan opened his eyes, he didn't really know what to expect.

Maybe a rugged-looking man with an odd gun in his hand. He expected pain, maybe, because getting shot always hurt like a son of a bitch. Thats what happened right? They were shot at.

Logan was not met with either of these things upon waking up. Well, not the gunshot part, because he'd be in a lot more pain if that were the case. Instead, Logan's eyes were assaulted by a harsh light as soon as they flickered open, and tinnitus in his ears rattled his brain.

He groaned, reaching his arm up to block at least some of the light, realizing after a few moments that it was the sun that beamed down on him. It seemed that no matter what, his eyes were still not used to such brightness since coming to the past, after living in a darkened world for years.

After he came to this conclusion, only then did he realize he was absolutely covered in sweat. Without hesitation, he sits up slowly, wincing when his right shoulder protested the movement. After a quick feel under his brown leather jacket, he discovered that his shoulder was dislocated in such a way that his rapid regeneration was having trouble popping it back in. Begrudgingly, he popped it in himself with a mere grunt. It wasnt anything new, his pain tolerance his increased substantially in the many years of his life.

As his eyes adjusted to the sunlight, the tinnitus in his ears bounced around his skull, thanks to one too many wars, one to many gunshots to the head.

A body shifted next to him, and Logan felt his own body tense automatically, blinking several times before becoming aware of the fact that he was half laying on a kid. The kid was just coming to with a groan of his own, brushing wild, dark green hair out of his face. But before Logan could ask what exactly was going on, the kid was immediately swept away from Logan's sight with a yelp. A grey cloth had wrapped around the kid's middle and yanked him back.

Logan's head whipped around in alarm, attempting to stand up on shaking legs-- _why were they shaking? He usually recovers faster than this_ \--a reflex from spending years on the run for his and other's lives from the Sentinels.

After a spasm in his back causes him to stumble to his knees, Logan's still-adjusting eyes trained on the culprit that had nabbed the kid right from under him, _literally._

It was a man with that same cloth wrapped around his neck and arms, somehow controlling it. He had yellow goggles of some sort that hid his eyes from view, and long black hair that had begun to lift and float up, as if he were in free fall. A single scar was etched into his cheek, just under his right eye.

The peculiar man was obviously a mutant, if the floating hair was anything to go by, cloth in his hands bending at his will. Though it seemed more like a weapon than an aspect of the man's power.

The sight was strange, a mutant using their powers in public? In broad daylight? It didn't sound very good.

Logan tensed once again, his instincts screaming at him to move, to do _something_. Get the situation under control. Logan was about to lift himself up once more when an intense headache broke out in the center of his forehead, making him wince hard. What the hell?

The mutant in front of him also flinched, as if he felt the pain too. A hand not controling the cloth had quickly fetched a small radio from a pocket in his black jumpsuit, murmuring in a foreign language. Logan's ears pricked as he recognized Japanese flowing from his mouth, catching bits and pieces. Logan watched as the mutant dropped the kid behind him, and stood protectively.

Logan caught the words _breach_ and _backup, now_ before the man had tossed the radio to the side, and held a defensive and well-experienced pose, hair floating wildly above him.

"Hey-" Logan started, but the man gripped the cloth in both hands, and suddenly it was _racing towards him._

The whole ordeal lasted about six or seven seconds, before several more people began to show up. A woman with long black hair and a white skin-tight suit, brandishing a whip in one hand and another hand ready to rip the latex off her arm at a moment's notice. There was also another man, blonde hair in a swoop, black leather _everything--_

A loud alarm sounded, startling Logan. He felt his claws climb up his wrist, the urge to protect his friends fierce, but a voice stopped him.

"Logan, dont. Stand down."

It was Charles. He was at Logan's left, sitting up a couple feet away, massaging his temple with squinting eyes. His legs were limp, and unresponsive in front of him. It took Logan a moment to realize that the Professor spoke to him in his head. The cloth had wrapped him up by now, constricting and holding him in place. Logan could feel rising panic, a familiar, _animalistic_ instinct trying to take over.

Hank and Peter were both unconscious, sprawled out a few feet away. There were already people dressed in these strange outfits aprehending them, taking them to god knows where, might do god knows what when they find out they're also mutants, and it was _all Logan's fault._

As his breath came back to him, Logan realized they were in a plaza of some sort, brickwork and cement stretching far. But he couldn't see farther than that because the man with floating hair and the scarf thing and his... _buddies_ started closing in on them. He grunted out an alarmed, "What the fu-" before he was cut off with a swift hit from above. He didnt see it coming before the world went black again.

-

Logan was getting really tired of waking up in random places. Don't take him wrong, he's woken up to many strange places in his life, but honestly, it was getting old. Thankfully, this time, he wasnt met with blinding lights.

As Logan came to, he found that he was leaning over a table and had his face pressed against its surface. Blearily, he rubbed his eyes and sat up straight--with his, unsurprisingly, cuffed hands--and woke up for the third time today. He didnt know how much time had passed, but his head hurt like a motherfucker.

He was in what he'd describe as an interrogation room, no doubt in a police station of some kind. It was a rather small room with only a table and three chairs. One he was sitting in, and the other two at the other side of the table. The cuffs on his wrists were tight, but not unbearably so, and they were different than normal handcuffs. They were not unlike the mutant suppressant braces from the future, a permanent lock that clicked chokingly around the neck; just less bulky, and a little red light only beeped at him when he tried to let his claws out, (unable to do so anyway with the metal band pressing into his wrist) instead of a tasing shock. But these ones, he could tell, were not permanent; these were meant for temporary power suppression.

The cuffs were looped around a bar that was embedded in the table, anchoring him.

There weren't any windows, but, there was a one-way mirror on the wall to his far right. He examined himself for a moment.

His hair and beard was in his usual, signature style, course, and he looked pretty roughed up with is clothes ripped and dirtied in several places. He looked exhausted. But he didnt have a stratch on him, thanks to his regeneration.

Logan sat quietly for a few minutes, looking around quietly, wondering just exactly how he got here. But then he remembered, and called out for Charles. He briefly remembers the Professor talking to him via his telepathy.

_Professor_ _? Can you hear me?_ Logan thought out in his mind, hoping to catch a reply that his friend was okay. 

He tried again, and a third time, just in case.

No response _._

It's not that he wasn't used to it, he's spent a lifetime with his brain locked from the professor. His bones won't be plated with Adamantium until the year 1991, and this body is from the year 1973. But his mind is from the year 2023, sent to the past to stop events leading up to his modern day. But now...

...Now, Logan doesn't know where the hell he even is anymore.

The door opens after a little double knock, and two men walk in. One of them is dressed in a tan overcoat, wearing a black suit, a green tie at his neck with matching slacks and dress shoes. He's holding two coffees in his hands, and a notebook and pen under his arm. The other is the same man from before, the one with the same gray cloth that now looks different from cloth--stronger and more durable--that he was still wearing. His hair isn't floating anymore, same scar under his eye, and same black jumpsuit. Now though, Logan gets a good look at the man's eyes: cold, unforgiving, and abdolutely deadpanned. He was holding a folder stamped with " _Private Investigation_ " in bold Japanese.

For some reason, Logan could feel his bad luck rearing its ugly head.

"Good morning," the man holding the coffees said, in English, setting one of the cups down for Logan to have. The man shrugs off is overcoat. "My name is Detective Tsukauchi, and I'm here to ask you a couple questions."

Internally, Logan weighed his options as the men sat down. He didn't really have time for this, and he was avoiding thinking about how he may have fucked everything up already and that Kitty sent him to the future on false hope--for _nothing._

"Go right ahead," Logan mumbled, "But first, was anyone injured?" It was his fault. Now they arent going to want to help him. The Professor was barely willing to help anyway..

The detective raised his eyebrows a little, but he nodded to the man that sat beside him and said, "Eraserhead, if you would."

The man-- _Eraserhead? The fuck kind of name is that?_ \--spoke, and his voice was low and tired. 

"Henry McCoy and Peter Maximoff, two suspects that were unconscious at the scene, woke up two hours ago with minor concussions that were healed via Recovery Girl. The third suspect, Charles Xavier, insisted his Paraplegia was an old injury, and other than a pair of pain killers given, all three were unharmed." Eraserhead finished.

Logan's shoulders slumped, "Well, thats good. What about that kid--he alright? I'm kind of heavy."

"Oh yes," the detective smiled, pulling out his notebook and pen, "The boy is fine." He gestured to the coffee for Logan. Logan didn't take it.

The detective, however, wasn't bothered. He simply took this in stride and started his questioning, "Now, I'd like to start by asking: are you in anyway affiliated with the League of Villains?"

"League of Villains? No."

Tsukauchi nodded, a weight lifted off his shoulders when the answer came back as true. "Thank you. Now, the rest of these questions are just standard procedure. Shall we proceed?"

Logan nodded, feeling confused for a moment. What the hell was the League of Villains? The thought, however, was forgotten when the detective finished writing whatever it was on his notepad, and started up the questions.

"Okay. Your name?"

"Logan."

_Truth._

"Oh? Just Logan?"

"Yes."

The detective paused when a little **_bzzt_** in his head paused his writing. It was a lie. He carried on though, only pausing to write _lie_ under where he'd written _Logan_ to come back to it. Tsukauchi moved onto the next question without looking up.

"Alrighty, and, date of birth?"

Logan thought about it for a moment, not exactly sure what to say. If it's 1973, that'd make him 41, right? Thats a reasonable age.

So he says, "1932."

... Apparently, its not what these men were expecting because both the men's eyes widen, and Eraserhead shot the detective a look. But Tsukauchi had pressed his lips together, looking unimpressed, and he speaks with an air of displeasure. "Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to be honest with me. Lying is not going to help your situation here."

"I'm not lying though."

Tsukauchi shakes his head, sighing shortly at the little **_bzzt_** in his brain detecting the lie. He sighsand moves on for the moment, scribbling away in his notebook.

Logan's eyebrows furrow, which is amazing, because the man had had a scowl on his face nearly the entire time and somehow deepened it. Annoyance and frustration were starting to show themselves, because _seriously, what's this guy's problem?_

"Now, do you mind telling us your quirk?" The detective asked plainly, and Logan's thoughts paused. _Wait, okay, hold on._

"Quirk?" He asks, shifting his eyes to the Eraserhead fellow, who was staring at him expectantly. "I've heard that twice now. What is a quirk?"

"You don't know what a quirk is?" the detective asked flatly, and Logan sighed with impatience.

"Ive just said-" Logan starts, showing his annoyance, but takes a breath and answers through his teeth, "-that I dont know. What is a quirk? Do you mean a mutation?"

Tsukauchi waited for the little **_bzzt_** to indicate that he was lying, but it didn't come. 

The detective was at a loss for words for a moment, before he replied, "A quirk is a power thats unique to every person. Y'know, more than 80% of the earth has one? Do you have one?"

Logan's eyes widened. What...

"I'm sorry, sir, there seems to be some confusion," The detective said, "Lets restart, shall we?"

Logan reluctantly nodded, thoughts going a million miles a second. The detective cleared his throat, and began.

"You and three other suspects somehow managed to get into UA property, _without_ authorization, and a _heavily_ guarded one at that. Of course, all four of you were arrested, subdued by Pro Heroes Eraserhead, Present Mic, and Midnight. Now, not only am I curious to how you did it, but you have added to the mystery by lying about who you are. You had no identification on you, and your accomplices had also called you Logan, and that they had only just met you. Additionally, none of you are registered in quirk databases, and... None of you officially exist. So, im going to ask once more, okay? Whats is your name, date of birth, and if you have one, what is your quirk?"

Logan's expression was stern as he thought about it. So if the others were interrogated, then they haven't told the Detective that he was from the future. Or they did, and he was testing who's story was straight. Logan himself probably wouldn't believe time travel was real unless he'd seen it himself, and... Logan sighed sharply, and he answered through gritted teeth.

"My name is Logan. I was born in 1883. I dont have a _quirk,_ but I do have a _mutation._ "

The detective froze. "..."

"Tsukauchi?" Eraserhead spoke up almost immediately, shooting the detective another look.

"You're telling the truth." The detective dumbly stated the fact as it was. "Really? 1883?"

"Yes." Logan tensed, "So? You wont believe 1932, but you'll believe 1883?"

"..." The men both stared at Logan silently, and the Wolverine wondered just how badly he fucked up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things just aren't adding up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aa ive returned with nothing but a few words. sorry. just got really into this again for a second lol. should be moving along the plot soon, but... might take awhile hhaaha. 
> 
> I have a question for y'all at the end notes too 👍👍
> 
> o yea sorry for spelling mistakes, im blind.

Aizawa Shouta was having A Day.

Being the first responder at the scene of a recent suspicious break-in on campus was, understandably, not how he thought he'd spend his afternoon, on a _Saturday_ no less. Call him irritable, but this school year has been so stressful, Shouta is surprised there's no grey showing up in his hair.

When he saw a strange man fall from the sky and land directly on one if _his_ students-and, of course it was Midoriya Izuku of all people-he'd reacted with no hesitation. Midoriya was by his side in an instant, and his hand was reaching for the alert on his phone to tell the staff of the intruders.

(Shouta knew he was correct with his assumption that Midoriya was a Problem Child of a Problem Class.)

Several others that he had not recognised were strewn about; two unconscious, and one just coming to with a hand on his forehead.

Shouta felt the familiar rush of fear and anticipation that he normally associated with hero work, gripping his capture weapon and acctivating his quirk almost immediately. When he felt the pain in his head, and _words,_ it took him a moment to realize it must be one of their quirks.

" _Logan, don't. Stand down."_

Telepathy, huh? Shouta's quirk zeroes in on him. He could have handled this situation easily, even if his bones were still tender after the USJ, only just healed completely yesterday. All he could think when Mic arrived was, _at least Recovery Girl won't throw a fit._

Their arrests were quick, thankfully. Present Mic and Midnight were there to swiftly apprehend the intruders. The beating of his heart would stop in time-at least, thats what he told himself when he watched ambulances and police cars take away the intruders.

_-_

Peter Maximoff woke up to a room that was not his. He woke up to his hands cuffed to a table, a cup of water within his reach, and an absolutely _killer_ headache.

Logically, he knew this room was in a police station. After all, he's been in a few before. His eyes bounced back in forth in the room, taking in all the plain, boring details. White walls, polished cement floors, a table and three chairs. And, of course, the one way mirror on the wall to his left. Classic.

So you see, logically, he knew that this was a police station. But the last thing he remembered was being shot at by some random fucking guy--before he could speed away, and that was _impressive--_ so the only real thought he could comprehend at the moment was that he was dead.

No, not really. Peter could feel his pulse, and the air felt cold, a result of an air conditioner in the far corner. His mom would be shitting herself when she heard the news; the last time he'd been arrested she was so pissed that she wouldn't even talk to him on the ride home.

Peter inspected the cuffs on his hands, noting their difference in looks from regular cuffs. These ones looked as if they were straight out of a movie, with a green light that blinked near the ratchet when he tried to vibrate his hand. He couldnt even so much as twitch with his power or the light would flash. Weird. He settled for bouncing his knee and humming, all while looking around the room for something-anything, really-interesting. There wasnt really anything, and he quickly grew bored. Jesus, what was taking them so long?

It felt like hours before someone knocked on the only door in the room, and two people he had never seen before came in. One in tan and one in black. 

_Finally_ , he thought, _I just want to go home._

Before Peter could say anything, one of the men, dressed in a tan coat and holding a pad of paper and a pencil in hand, spoke up.

"Good morning, young man. My name is Detective Tsukauchi, and I'm here to ask you a few questions."

Peter furrowed his eyebrows at this. "Detective?" He asked a bit hesitantly, and hastily offered up, "Look whatever those other guys were up to-"

Tsukauchi cut him off with a slight smile, "We'll get to that. If you will, we'd like some answers from you."

Peter's leg started bounching again and the cuffs started flashing. The boy nodded.

"Ask away, then."

The eyes of the two men in front of him zeroed in on the cuffs, and they glanced at each other. The detective cleared his throat.

"Alright, then. First, state your name, date of birth, and Quirk, please."

Peter paused, his leg momentarily stopping its bounching.

"... Quirk? Whats that?" He asked, and watched as the two men in front of shared another glance. The man dressed in black with the scar under his eye answered him

"A Quirk is a power. A superhuman ability."

At those words, Peter's heart froze, and he felt his blood run hot. Fuck.

Oh, fuck. Shit.

"I-I'm afraid I dont know what you mean, sir," Peter said, "I dont have a power." He cursed his stupid studdering at the beginning of that sentence. _Jesus Christ_. His mom was going to kill him. She _told_ him-one day something like this was going to happen. He's not stupid, he knows how the world views mutations.

Tsukauchi straightened up at the boy's nervous tone, and scribbled down the lie on his notepad. He glanced once again at Aizawa, and the man kept a calculating gaze on the kid in front of him.

"Young man, it's quite alright. I myself have a Quirk, and Eraserhead next to me has a Quirk. More than 80% of the world has a Quirk. You don't have to lie."

_Fuck._

"I..." Peter's mind short-circutted, "Wait, what did you say?"

"I have a Quir-"

"No, about the world. What do you mean? I've never even met someone with a Mutation-"

Tsukauchi wondered if this was going to be a reoccurrence. He put up a hand, and smiled his everything-will-be-explained-shortly smile.

"Let's just start from the beginning, okay?"

-

Nedzu look pride in being the principal of UA, having worked hard and long to be in this position. After the school year started, everything seemed normal enough; minus the fact that All Might himself was to be a teacher here this year, two students destroyed Zero-Pointers n this year's Entrance Exam, and that one of them was the next holder of One for All.

Then there was the security gate being destroyed, and the attack at the USJ; which as still fresh in everyone's-the public's-mind.

And now theres this. A new and possible attack from new and possible villains, a few days after the sports festival, and a few days before student internships.

Though, watching this interview through the one way glass, Nedzu knew this kid wasnt a villain. Nor the other three. In fact, other than know this is a police station, the suspects look as if they have no idea where they are.

Interesting, Nedzu thought. Very interesting indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also. I have more ideas for this story and i want to know: would you like for me to keep this moving in pace with the plot i have set OR should i make them separate one shots? (both of which could take awhile cause im pretty slow) 
> 
> also thanks for the love on the first chapter. that is nice

**Author's Note:**

> okay, yeah. from here on it would go into detail about Logan's background, where he's from, and when hes from, but i fell asleep before i could really finish it.


End file.
